


sunset in godric's hollow

by MavenMorozova



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood Pacts, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Fade Sex, Fade to Black, Godric's Hollow, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Homosexuality, Kissing, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Obscurial Ariana Dumbledore, One Shot, Period-Typical Homophobia, Summer of 1899
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MavenMorozova/pseuds/MavenMorozova
Summary: The twilight of summer takes a disastrous and tragic turn.Can be read as a one-shot or as a prequel to an upcoming Grindeldore series.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	sunset in godric's hollow

**Author's Note:**

> written for @hogwartsonline Dialogue (June) OWLS: "You should know that I don’t care what anybody else thinks. I’ll always be on your side."  
> Enjoy!

“You should know that I don’t care what anybody else thinks. I’ll always be on your side.” Albus’s words would perhaps have been a shock to him two months ago, when summer was young and they had been but boys. But they weren’t now. Now they sang to him like a perfect melody, not one wrong note or slide.

Of course, his willing, unconditional support—and love—needed a harmony to _truly_ be perfect, Gellert’s harmony. Perhaps in a reply of accordance, or a kiss...or if Gellert was feeling generous, a nice, hard fuck. Because they weren’t boys anymore—no, they were _gods_.

Those times of bliss—or pain, Albus couldn’t really say which—were only conducted in the dead of night, when Aberforth and Ariana slept soundly, not able to be woken by even a creak of the oak stairs. Gellert, of course, had to be wary of Bathilda, and so they would meet by the river or in the woods, their clothes Vanishing from their backs and legs with a swirl of wordless magic. They hadn’t really need to have taken all these precautions, after all, they could have simply made them go away with the wave of a wand, but it felt better this way. Safer. More private.

Gellert would kiss Albus, bruising his lips and jaw and neck and collarbone. Those, too, always had to be Vanished by morning light. And of course, Albus would always reciprocate the favor, his mouth moving lower and lower until it enveloped Gellert’s cock, making his lover writhe with pleasure beneath Albus’s fingers, which usually trailed along the side of Gellert’s abdomen, or perhaps clenched his ass.

And then he would pull back, lips glistening with saliva and other delicious substances, and it would be Gellert’s turn, but not before the blonde Durmstrang student would flip Albus over, pin him to the forest floor, and fuck his ass without mercy after prying him open with his fingers.

They always chose a spot deep in the trees where no one could hear their moans and cries, their thrashing and screaming. Again, it was not an issue to be too careful.

But now was not that time. Albus’s promise hung in the air like a coming thunderstorm, his devotion practically palpable. And Gellert’s smile—no, his wicked grin, for rarely did Gellert actually _smile_ —responded in kind. He did not even need to speak the words, only give a single, serious nod, like the flick of a wand.

Then Gellert narrowed his eyes. “Do you truly mean that?” he asked, voice a hoarse whisper. A cloud moved in the sky, and the sun bared down upon them, casting a perilous heat on their pale arms. Pale, of course, from sitting inside their rooms all summer, sending owls, making plans for the greater good, neglecting their families… Now the sun cast what Albus could only describe as a halo around Gellert’s golden head, a stark contrast to what he really was—what they both were, though they considered themselves otherwise.

“Of course I mean it!” Albus responded at once, finding Gellert’s smooth hand and clasping it tightly with a brief squeeze. When Gellert’s eyes continued to hold their challenging gaze, Albus felt an idea fall into his head—an ancient piece of rarely-used magic. It was dangerous and it was forbidden, and yet it was undeniably sacred. “I will prove it to you.” A pause. “We must form a blood pact.”

He wanted Gellert to exclaim, “You do not need to prove anything, Albus!” He wanted to hear Gellert’s proclamation of unconditional devotion as Albus had given it to him, because their euphoric blend of love and lust was not enough to ensure their mutual survival.

But Gellert said none of these things. Instead, his eyes shone with something that looked like...triumph, perhaps?

Then the gleam was gone, and Albus determined that he had probably imagined the whole thing.

Slowly, Gellert nodded, such a juxtaposition to his jerky one before. He knew what a blood pact was, how could he not? Albus was sure that Durmstrang must have taught _about_ it, at least, for though it was not necessarily a Dark Art, it certainly was tinted with a certain permanence and fatefulness.

But Albus breezed past all of that, his mind impulsive and unregretful. The two boys, just out of school, the youngest of adults, held out their palms.

With a quick murmur from his lips and a slow tracing of his wand, Albus sliced open his hand. The pain was unexpected, even though he’d known what was going to happen. Blood spurted everywhere, dripping down Albus’s palm and staining his flowy white shirt.

Gellert did the same, though much more neatly, and now they placed their hands together, Gellert’s fingers—so lithe, so pale, so beautiful—interlacing with Albus’s. The primal magic of the blood pact raced through them, a steady _thrum, thrum, thrum_ that made its way to each of their brains—and to their hearts. With an agonizing slowness, the steady _thumps_ of each others’ hearts synchronized to one single heartbeat. 

For a moment, they shared a single soul.

“I am yours,” Albus whispered, his jaw vibrating uncontrollably. He felt his breath hitch and took a deep breath, infusing himself with Gellert’s glorious scent: lemons, musk, and a hint of burned elder. His eyes shut tightly and he lowered his head.

“And I, yours,” Gellert echoed, his eyes fluttering closed. They let the magic fill them, then fade from them, its absence felt keenly. Well—it lingered; it laid there within them, dormant, but it was nothing like the initial overwhelm of sensation that it had inflicted.

Albus opened his eyes to find Gellert staring at him, his dichromatic eyes intent with passion, fire blazing within them. Without warning, his lips crashed into Albus’s, and they were warm and soft and marvelously _wet_ , and Albus couldn’t help but moan into them. His hands reached up and clutched at the bak of Gellert’s crisp shirt, and he froze when he realized that one was still covered in blood.

They pulled apart reluctantly, gasping at the bloody damage they had wrought upon each other. Albus stared at Gellert in horror, his expression mirrored on Gellert’s countenance. Within a few utterly short moments, they no longer stood awkwardly in silence, instead ensconced in raucous laughter as they magicked their clothing clean and sealed their cuts.

They made love then, not for the first time, but unknowingly the last. Albus’s nails grazed Gellert’s back and up to tousle his shining golden hair as the latter knelt at his feet, warm mouth enveloping him. He heard Gellert whisper, “You are mine,” and the unintentional growl that came with it.

Afterward, they headed back to Godric’s Hollow, still covered in sweat, but at least without the blood.

“We might as well appear presentable,” Albus muttered as they reached his front door, running his wand smoothly over his clothing, hands, and face, and doing the same for Gellert. He then placed a light kiss on the back of Gellert’s neck, soft and fleeting.

Under his touch, Gellert froze.

“What is it?” Albus asked nervously. He stepped out from behind Gellert to see Aberforth standing there in the doorway, his arms crossed and young face twisted in disgust and horror.

“Where have you been?” Aberforth sneered, his upper lips curling. Albus watched as his younger brother’s eyes flickered to Gellert’s mussed hair, the bruises on Albus’s neck that he’d failed to fully Vanish. Aberforth’s nostrils flared once.

“W-we, er—” Albus began, but Gellert stopped him, placing a finger directly over his lips, their skin lightly touching there. Aberforth’s eyes widened and he jumped back as if burned, his chest rising and falling heavily. “That’s disgusting,” he heard his brother mutter, a hint of fear in his voice.

He was right to be afraid.

Albus felt himself flinch, but Gellert was already speaking. “We have been making plans for leaving for Europe,” Gellert lied smoothly, a small, elegant smile gracing his pale lips. Well, it was not exactly a lie; they _had_ discussed this at length, just not this particular evening.

Emboldened by his lover, Albus spoke as well. “We are leaving, Abe. Tonight.”

“You’re not going anywhere, least of all with _him_ ,” Aberforth snarled. In one fluid movement, he had drawn his wand, but Gellert was too quick for him, sending a curse right into his Aberforth’s chest. Albus heard a scream erupt from somewhere, and he realized that it had emitted from him; he had jumped in front of his brother, and now slimy white maggots were egressing from him his chest, spilling unceremoniously onto the stone walkway. Quickly, he Vanished them and turned to face Gellert, whose beautiful face was almost unrecognizable. “What are you _doing_ , Gellert?”

“Ensuring our freedom, Albus!” the blonde boy spat, his lighter eye catching the dying sunlight. “I will _not_ let this...utter _imbecile_ stand in our way!”

“That _imbecile_ is my _brother_!” Albus shot back, his voice rising higher and louder.

Behind him, Aberforth slapped him aside, spitting onto his face. “I can defend myself, Albus!”

Gellert’s eyes glinted. “ _Prove_ _it_ , you ignorant little—”

Aberforth shut him up with a Disarming Charm, which Gellert promptly waved aside. Eyes flashing nervously between the two of them, Albus aimed a shield charm between them, making Gellert scream in frustration.

“You are taking _his side_ , Albus?” Gellert panted, his golden hair plastered to the sides of his head, drenched in sweat and the summer’s humidity. “ _His. Side_?”

At these words, Albus saw tears prick his lover’s eyes, rolling down his cheeks in silent agony. With a start, he realized that though they had never said the words, Gellert loved him, and he loved Gellert, which meant that—

The duel between Gellert and Aberforth hadn’t stopped, except now, it included Albus as well. He saw his lover shoot a jinx at him. Though he defended himself in a too-easy countercurse, he couldn’t rid himself of the sting that pierced his heart.

Out of nowhere, in their brief moment of recovery, Aberforth gathered his bearings, hitting Gellert with a curse that made his skin start to melt. Gellert howled, in anger or agony; Albus could not tell which.

It all happened at once, and ever so slowly. Albus watched, heartbroken and thunderstruck, as Gellert healed himself of the spell without a single blink. He watched as Gellert raised his wand and pointed it at the unprepared Aberforth. And he watched as Gellert shouted something Unforgivable. “ _Crucio_!”

His brother screamed, the sound grating and painful, crumpling to the stone where the front steps met the doorway, eyes dilating in agony.

“Stop, _stop_ !” Albus heard someone cry—but it was _his_ voice—and he heard, too, a girlish, high-pitched shouting. Ariana had crept into the area, standing in their living room with her shoulders shaking violently, but not with tears. No, this was something far, far worse. Curling black tendrils were escaping her ears and eyes like smoke, twisting and taking shape. Within a moment, Ariana was gone, and only a black cloud of violent sand or gas or a terrible _something_ remained. It twisted through the air, tearing off the front door and barreling into Gellert, who howled in pain. Albus could not see his body; it was enveloped by the cloud— _Ariana_ —as it tumbled him through the air.

“Ari, _Ari_ !” Albus cried, launching himself not at the violent cloud, but at Gellert’s figure. He couldn’t really tell _what_ he was doing. His lover’s golden hair had been dyed a blinding white, and his shirt had been torn to reveal cursed scratches on his chest and shoulders. _Fuck_.

The torrent of curses and jinxes, hexes and spells continued then, Gellert invigorated with a new fury, Aberforth the same. Meanwhile, Ariana the black cloud continued her rampage, black tendrils scraping the duelers’ skins and breaking the glass windows. The noise was nearly deafening, the shatters, the yells, the bangs emitting from their wands… Albus could only see blinding colors of light from their three wands, brilliant hues of blue, green, and red.

The world slowed down again. A sound registered in Albus’s ears, his sister released a piteous yelp and fell, the black cloud evaporating. She hit the ground with a _thump_.

All of a sudden, the storm quieted. The light of their curses dissolved into the regular twilight sky, and the shouting and bangs along with it. Aberforth let out a terrible sound, a shaky, high pitched cry that became an unbearable wail. He threw himself upon Ariana’s broken body, but it was too late—she was dead, unmoving, her eyes staring listlessly at the fading sun.

Albus, however, stayed put. He was reeling; everything moved in slow motion—or worse, backward—and he was unfathomably dizzy. He reached out a hand to steady himself on Gellert’s shoulder before remembering everything in a sharp twist of his head, swiftly drawing it back.

Gellert’s eyes were cold and unfeeling, and...terrified? His jaw quivered slightly and the new magic-inflicted scars on his chest seemed to squirm. Those eyes flashed to Albus, filled with that disgusting, sickening fear, and Albus saw himself reflected in each—his lighter and darker natures, the lighter rushing to Ariana’s side, tears leaking from his eyes and auburn hair hanging limply in his face, the darker following Gellert Grindelwald here and now, and watching all his dreams come true...save one. Albus could never save his sister from her affliction now, for it had taken her instead.

Grindelwald turned away, and the moment was over. “Get. _OUT_!” Albus screamed—no, screeched, for his words were barely cipherable—and collapsed to the ground. When he rose to drag himself to his sister’s side, Grindelwald was gone.

But it was all a sham, really. It couldn’t have been Grindelwald that had killed her, it simply couldn’t. Albus knew in his heart of hearts that it had to have been him who’d done it, he just _knew_.

The sun had long disappeared when the two brothers lifted themselves from the ground—and Ariana’s side. Albus could not ignore Aberforth’s acute expression of betrayal, disgust, anger… He knew that he deserved every bit of it. Well, perhaps not—

“This is what fucking a man leads you to, Al,” Aberforth muttered, tears still streaming down his face as they lifted Ariana’s small, sickly pale body. Her blonde hair lay limp upon her face, strewn across her eyelids and faded lips. It was all so final—yes, final.

But Aberforth’s _words_ …

“That’s not why, Ab, and you know that,” Albus murmured quietly.

“Isn’t it?” Aberforth shot back savagely. “If you two hadn’t—”

“Just _stop_!” Albus cried, a lump forming in his throat. “Are we really doing this over the body of our sister?”

That quieted him, and they walked in silence. First, they would alert Bathilda, tell her the news. They did not need to worry about Grindelwald being there, for Albus was sure that he must have had fled by now. Then they would hold a funeral.

Above them, a star glinted, the first of many to appear in the night sky, and the first that would dwindle come daylight. A star of unrealized dreams, of shattered potential, of unresolvable regret and heartache.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! kudos/comments are always appreciated, either praise or constructive criticism! stay safe!


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